


Dead Man Walking

by Zeiskyte



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Goro and Akira have a talk, M/M, No Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Takes place after vanilla p5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24270430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeiskyte/pseuds/Zeiskyte
Summary: Goro never considered what his life would be like once the storm ended.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 96





	Dead Man Walking

**Author's Note:**

> I was writing the next chapter of my other Goro fic... and this fic actually possessed me to open up a new doc and write it. Goro and Akira took me hostage and this wrote itself.

And Goro just. Stares at him. Wonders when Kurusu could have gotten _stupider_ in the span of a few seconds. It's truly baffling that the leader of the Phantom Thieves could come to the conclusion that Goro needed to be saved - that he _deserved_ to be saved.

Like _hell_ he deserved a second chance. Goro hardly wanted one. All he wanted was to build up Shido - create an entire motherfucking _empire_ for that bastard to rule - and tear down each and every wall that piece of shit constructed. At the apex of the world, there was nothing Goro wanted more than to tell Shido who he truly was and watch the man crumple over in despair and with a bullet to the back of his brain.

Goro's eyes catch on Kurusu's extended hand like it's an expired cake - sweet, but emblazoned around the edges with mold. An offer that was saccharine once upon a time, now currently more unappetizing and repugnant than it was the first time around. Never one to take a hint, the idiot keeps his hand out like they're world leaders and this handshake will outlaw all future wars. Frankly, Goro couldn't give a damn about a war, so reasonably, he turns his glare to the slate gray eyes that sit behind Kurusu's dark messy curls and fake glasses.

"Go fuck yourself," he says simply. He's long since dropped his _Detective Prince_ pretense, sweet smiles and pleasant words and whatever other bullshit came along with being a fake TV star. Kurusu and the others had seen him - the real _him_ , the one painted black and blue and stained with more blood than he could ever hope to wash off before his next interview. Gloves could only cover so much.

Kurusu, just like the dumbass he is, keeps his hand brandished - as if holding it out would entice Goro to take it, despite the latter openly rejecting it for the entirety of the time it was being offered to him. His eyes are unreadable, even when they are in clear view past his glasses. "Tried that," he smirks devilishly, "works much better with a partner, let me tell you."

Goro tries. He really, _really_ tries. His nose scrunches up in annoyance because- "You're _insufferable_ ," he huffs. Kurusu thinks he's some kind of casanova, as _if_ such unruly hair, ridiculous glasses, and tawdry clothes could be apropos of that moniker. Goro shakes his head for even wasting a second of his time wondering about the notion. "Just - _cut the crap_ , will you?" He drips all of his annoyance and anger into his words. "You're lucky I've yet to leave you standing here with your hand still outstretched."

Kurusu cocks his head and finally - _finally_ \- retracts his hand to slide it into his jacket's pocket. "Funny how this isn't the first time you've rejected my hand," and there it is. That awful twist of his lips, that upward turn that screams _Joker_ and not the unassuming boy underneath. "I'm certain it won't be the last time, either."

Goro sneers, and he can distinctly feel every ache of his teeth with how hard he's gritting them. With how exasperating Kurusu was acting with each and every extended offer of pity, Goro could feel his last shreds of self-control slip through his fingers. Not dissimilar to his contemptible final act back in that wretched engine room, sanity dripping away once he had summoned Loki and could only see red. However, here in the backstreets of Yongen-Jaya and not in his father's palace, Goro still grew dizzy with the intoxicating image of separating Kurusu's head from his shoulders.

"And if you know I'll reject every offer," Goro begins reasonably because, above all things, he'd like to think he's _reasonable_ , "why do you think I'll accept this time?" He takes in a breath to recompose himself, smothering the fire that burns in his heart that he recognizes as Loki. "Why do you keep trying?"

And as if it's the simplest thing in the world, Kurusu _shrugs_. "Everyone deserves the chance to redeem themselves."

Goro feels as if he's burning alive. There's a whole goddamn _wildfire_ in his chest, and he's sure the snow at his feet is beginning to melt. Somehow Kurusu knows exactly how to push every single one of Goro's buttons, despite the fact that Goro hides his buttons under layers and layers of masks and makeup and self-defense mechanisms. It's _vexatious_ , and Goro detests the fact that he is still standing here, still standing in front of Kurusu, and not catching the next train to _literally anywhere besides here_.

"A monster like me deserves _death_ ," he hisses, certainly still fuming, steam rising out of the top of his head like its a volcano, "I'm at a loss for how you could convince yourself that murderers deserve a second chance."

"You _saved_ us, back there in the engine room," Kurusu begins, and finally there's something in his eyes. Something bright - passion? Goro wishes it were anger - it would be much easier to understand and affront. To Goro's dismay, the Phantom Thieves' leader continues, "You wanted to change, didn't you?"

Somewhere deep down, Robin Hood's flames burn - lapping at the inside of his heart, never reaching anywhere further. Loki's flames burn much brighter and encompass Goro's entire being. It didn't matter if he wanted to change. As loath as he was to admit it, there was no hope of cutting his strings back then. As soon as he would separate himself from the wooden hand controller, he'd have Shido's attack dogs on him before he could even relish his freedom.

It didn't matter if he wanted to change. His hands were stained. His heart burned in its dichotomy, unstable and incapable of remaining staunch for any belief. Down to his very core, he failed to be an individual _something_. He burned with the desire for chaos, to tear the world to shreds - just like the world had ripped and torn him into a lacerated mess. He was alight with his passion to fight for true justice - the justice he was never gifted when he was bounced around from orphanage to foster home back to orphanage. He was, by nature, a _traitor_. Two-faced, double-hearted.

 _It didn't matter if he wanted to change_. Crow was a façade. Robin Hood was ostentatious, and _Detective Prince Akechi Goro_ was as fake as the words he crooned with a silver tongue in every interview, every television appearance, and every conversation he held with the messy-haired barista in a rundown cafe serving coffee and curry.

"And what of it now?" He says finally, narrowing hateful, garnet eyes. "I _killed_ the parents of two of your friends." He clenched his hands into fists at his side. "Hell, I even killed _you_ , and here you are - holding your hand out to me like we got into a fight over some superficial matter and I'm not some _murderer_."

"Your life isn't a matter of small potatoes," Kurusu says, because _everything_ has to be an idiom, _everything_ has to be a _game_ \- "Goro, _listen to me_ -"

"Kurusu-kun," he irrupts, _don't call me Goro_ is left unsaid but hangs in the air between them regardless. "My life should have ended back in the engine room. I had no desire to live past my father's downfall." _I have no desire to live now_. _Stop reaching out your hand_ , _you fool_.

"But you're here. You survived and you're _alive_ ," there's hope burning in Kurusu's eyes, and all Goro wants to do is smother it and watch it flicker into molten ashes, "you have another chance. We can start over again - together."

It takes all of Goro's self-restraint to keep his hands at his side and not find their way to wrap around Kurusu's neck. " _Together?_ " He all but screeches. "With your band of Thieves? The very group that hates my guts because I _betrayed them?_ " He takes a breath, allowing his anger to consume his very being and strip away any rational thought and throw it to the wolves. "I hate to break it to you and your _savior complex_ , Kurusu-kun - I'm not a good person. The real Akechi Goro is a killer. The real Akechi Goro can't be saved with the power of friendship."

 _It didn't matter if he wanted to change._ Goro found himself running out of breath, voice dropping down to a quiet hiss. "I'm better off dead. I never deserved to live in the first place. You should have just left me to die back there..."

"Is that true?" Kurusu asks gently, as if Goro hadn't just screamed at him with pent up anguish and bottled up anger. As if he hadn't laid his entire heart bare for Kurusu to pick at and examine. Just as Goro is about to rebut about wanting to die at the end of the barrel of his cognitive double's gun, Kurusu continued, "Is _that_ the real Akechi Goro?"

And Goro's breath caught in his throat, words dying on his lips. His split heart burned for very different, distinct reasons. Which one was real? ... Weren't they _both_ real?

He glared at Kurusu once again, unable to determine what he hated about the leader of the Phantom Thieves the most. His unassuming appearance? His sharp gaze, hidden beneath a mirror meant to deflect suspicion? How he could unravel Goro with cunning words and ridiculous idioms and that frustrating, insufferable personality of his? Goro hated Kurusu. Goro hated every aspect of Kurusu _and then some_.

"You can't wear your heart on your sleeve and claim it's not your coat, Goro," he murmurs, as if telling a secret. It makes Goro's blood _boil_. "This _you_ is just as ingenuine as the Detective Prince was."

There's undoubtedly Loki in his sneer, full of contempt and disdain and spitting like he's a dog off its leash. "And what the hell would you know, Kurusu!" He raises an arm to take a swing, but Kurusu's reflexes are just as quick as he catches Goro's arm before the blow connects. "L-Let me _go!_ "

"Goro." Kurusu stares him down, despite them being the same height. Goro is sure his teeth are going to shatter from how tight he's clenching them. "I don't expect you to rejoin the team. And even if we aren't at work, I don't expect you to be friends with them, either."

Goro narrows his eyes, still meeting Kurusu's gaze. "What are you here for then? If not to lecture me about the fucking _sunshine_ and _rainbows_ of friendship?"

Kurusu's grip on Goro's wrist is gentle, as if he were a thing to be handled with care. It sickens Goro. He wrenches his hand free, and Kurusu doesn't reach forward to grab his arm again.

"I wanted to tell the real Akechi Goro that I still want to be friends with him."

Kurusu stares down at him, gray eyes burning in determination. Those are _Joker's_ eyes, the same fire raging within them during every heist, every take down, every _kill_. Maybe those are _Akira's_ eyes. Goro never had the audacity to find out.

Venom still drips off Goro's words as he speaks. "Who's to say you were ever friends with the real Akechi Goro in the first place?"

"Well," Kurusu shoves his hands into his pockets, "that's a good question to ask _the real Akechi Goro_ , now isn't it?"

Goro crosses his arms, deepening his frown to convey the hatred he holds for the man in front of him. "Quite difficult to converse with a dead man."

Kurusu's eyes are hidden behind his glasses, emotions imperceptible. "Possibly more difficult than conversing with a dead man walking."

Goro doesn't speak as Kurusu turns and walks in the opposite direction. He doesn't move from his spot, not even when Kurusu disappears from the edge of his vision.

Dead men tell no tales. Goro knows that, and he's damn sure Kurusu knows it as well.

And as much as he hates to admit it, he doesn't know who _the real Akechi Goro_ is. And, even more, he hates that Kurusu knows that fact.

Goro hates and hates and _hates_ , but in the end, it never really amounts to anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you guys think! I had a blast writing this piece and it was my first attempt at Shuake.
> 
> Some of my own thoughts:  
> \- Goro's perception of Akira's eyes/glasses changes throughout the fic based on how close they are at the moment.  
> \- Goro has a thought about Shido's attack dogs, even though Goro was very much also one of Shido's attack dogs (and barks at Akira like one later in the fic).  
> \- Akira never meant for Goro to rejoin the Phantom Thieves/become buddy buddy with the other Thieves. Notice that he says "We" and "Together"... Goro, too caught up in his anger, just assumes that Akira meant the Thieves.  
> \- Goro... spends a lot of time hating Akira. Like... 90% of this fic is Goro hating him. He hates Akira because Akira is free in a way that Goro never could be. Akira leaves, and Goro is stuck in place. Goro isn't able to move on from the past, and he hates that Akira is so _free_. And, of course, despite Goro spending so much time hating Akira, it really doesn't change anything.  
> Come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Zeiskyte)!


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